


boys in the better land

by rekal



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rekal/pseuds/rekal
Summary: It's 1967, and Will Schofield finds himself in the countryside, working at a cherry orchard for the spring and summer after being expelled from university.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 36
Kudos: 184





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title's a Fontaines D.C. song check it out  
> I tried to write something for these two set during the war and couldn't, so I came up with this haha

March, 1967

_I wasn’t good at university anyways._

That was the thought Will latched on to as he filled his suitcases.

_I was never a star student. I wouldn’t have made it far in academics._

It was barely enough to keep his mind off of things.

There was orange light on the floor of his (now empty) dorm room, spilling across the leather of his luggage with a striking sense of finality.

He couldn’t look at the bed adjacent to (the bed that used to be) his, because that was where his (ex) roommate had been sitting two days earlier, unable to meet Will’s eyes after their meeting with the Dean.

_“I’ll have no such abandonment of morality at this institute.”_

At least the man had the good will to not tell their families why they were being expelled, or report them to the authorities. He didn’t want to think about what his mother’s reaction would be to Will being jailed for falling for his roommate.

Either way, it was over now. He’d thought about going back to stay with his parents, but the more he thought about the looks they’d give him, the more he thought he’d prefer to just evaporate instead.

At least his aunt had been in town that weekend. Will was able to work something out in terms of working as a live-in caretaker to a small property of hers a ways up North, some cottage she rented out to people in the colder months. 

So for the rest of spring and summer, Will would have a place to stay and get his shit together, and maybe even find a job or a girl.

One thing was certain, though- Will would stay far, far away from boys. Or so he hoped.

A knock at the door snapped Will to attention. One of his dorm neighbors entered, a sympathetic smile on his face as he watched Will gather his things in his arms.

“Need any help with that?” He asked, voice gentle.

“No, I’m alright. Thanks.” Will replied as he sidestepped past him into the hall.

“You ever gonna tell us what you did to get tossed? Was Sean in on it?”

“No. I don’t know why he’s gone,” Will lied. “And as for me, I’m no good at classes.”

“Now that’s got to be a lie, mate-”

“I’m off now. Say goodbye to everyone for me,” Will spoke blankly, giving a curt wave before hurrying down the painfully familiar hall. 

He didn’t look back until he reached the shabby truck he’d bought with his meager secondary school job savings, stowed all his things in its bed, and started the rickety engine.

His eyes burned. He tried to convince himself it was the smog from the exhaust pipe.

***

The convenience store was small, but its groceries were cheap and Will didn’t have much by way of money anyways.

He’d arrived at the cottage the day before, but only took the time to haul his things out of the truck before passing out on the small, antiquated bedroom’s unmade bed. Will woke up to birdsong and cicadas with a crick in his neck and an empty stomach, which he found no remedy for in the cottage’s barren cabinets.

And so he found himself sitting outside the little family-owned convenience store in town, having bought the cheapest, most filling products on the shelves to keep him from starving until he had income, and searching for job listings in the local area’s newspaper.

The first one he landed on that asked for someone like him- young, able-bodied, no formal education required- was agricultural work at a cherry orchard surprisingly close to the cottage.

_“Help needed at cherry orchard. Left turn off of Harefield Road. Call the number below…”_

Good enough for him.

After making his way back to the cottage and downing a shabby sandwich, Will tracked down the cottage’s telephone and dialed for the Blake Family Orchard.

The line picked up almost immediately by a cheerful man who introduced himself as Joseph and proceeded to tell Will he could head over whenever it suited him, so long as the sun was up. His friendliness jarred Will; the difficulty of finding work as an adolescent in London had conditioned him to expect nothing less than passive aggression from employers.

Another alien thing to add to the list, alongside the absence of city noise, the quality of air, and the constant overflow of _green_ everywhere he looked. Will didn’t miss London for a second.

***

Will figured it was a mistake to walk to the orchard twenty minutes in, after the morning’s swollen clouds began to darken. It was only another half hour there, but all he had with him in terms of protection from the elements was a canvas jacket and the newspaper tucked in its pocket. Saving gas wouldn’t mean much if Will ended up too sick to make gas money.

The sky gave way when Will finally spotted the orchard at the end of the gravel road, leaving him sprinting to his destination under a mostly useless newspaper.

The Blake Family Orchard was composed of an orange painted two story house with a sign hanging over the porch, a wide patch of gravel with a couple trucks parked in it in front, and a wide expanse of flowering trees just beyond. It was picturesque, but Will could hardly appreciate it through the chill of his soaked shoulders.

He dried his face as much as he could and brushed his hair out of his face before approaching the door. Will could see a dark oak desk and a few comfortable chairs visible through the door window, which he avoided standing near as he went inside for fear of dampening them. A small bell had sounded when Will entered, prompting the appearance of a handsome blue-eyed man through a distant doorway- “Joseph?”

“That’s me. William Oldfield?” the man replied, moving to shake Will’s hand.

“Schofield.” Will said, nodding as he shook Joseph’s hand.

“My mistake. Good to meet you, Will,” Joseph responded, slapping Will’s shoulder before drying his hand on his shirt. “You’re all damp, mate. Get caught in the weather?”

Will gave a quiet, nervous laugh. “Unfortunately. I live in the Northbrook cottage a short ways away from here, so I thought maybe I’d just walk.”

“That’s understandable. It’s a good thing you live so close, cause this storm doesn’t seem to be the type to let up anytime soon.”

Will nodded as Joseph ushered him to a sturdy wooden chair and left to fetch some paperwork.

In the end, the ordeal of getting hired at the orchard lasted some thirty minutes. 

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Joseph had said in response to Will’s admittance that he had little agricultural experience. “We’re just happy to have an extra pair of hands. Can you start work in say, two days? My brother’ll fetch you that morning and give you a rundown of the day’s duties?”

“Alright. Your brother?”

“Yeah, his name’s Tom. Good lad. Looks just like me, a little younger.”

When Will had finished up with Joseph, he grabbed his coat, shivering at its contact, and moved towards the door, but was stopped by a man’s voice ringing out from a hall connected to the entryway.

“Oi. Rain hasn’t let up, you’ll get sick. You want to borrow an umbrella?”

Will didn’t have to ask his name to know who the young man whose eyes he met upon turning was. “Ah, sure. Thank you.”

Tom Blake gave a million watt grin that Will felt himself smiling in response to before he could help it, setting alarm bells off in his head.

_Oh, man. Not again._

When Tom returned and handed Will the umbrella, he stuck out his hand. 

“Are you Will?”

“Yeah. Are you Tom?”

Tom gave another brilliant smile as they shook hands, and Will tried to ignore the feeling of his face growing hotter.

“You look like your brother.”

Tom laughed. “I get that a lot,” Tom’s hand lingered in Will’s just barely long enough to notice before he stepped off with a small wave. “Be seeing you, Will Schofield.”

Will’s still smiling when he sets out, alarm bells still sounding. 

_Fuck, why did he have to be that handsome?_

Just his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ideas for the plot right now are pretty vague, so we'll see where this goes loves


	2. Chapter 2

It was still dark out when Tom woke up that Monday morning.

 _I probably should’ve slept a bit longer,_ he thought, going through his morning routine in the silent house.

As he savored his tea in the kitchen, the caffeine slowly waking him up, he remembered why it was he was up early. He’d been told to fetch and mentor that guy Joseph’d hired- 

_His name was Will, right?_

_Yeah. Will Schofield. The pretty guy._

Tom couldn’t deny that he'd been looking forward to seeing the pretty guy again. Something about the softness of his features combined with his demeanor. When they’d spoken, Tom couldn’t help but notice how he’d looked young, but his mannerisms were those of someone older by far- he’d seemed emotionally exhausted, almost.

 _That’s probably why he’s up here anyways,_ Tom thought. _He needs a break._

***

Tom stood in front of the cottage’s door and looked at his feet, feeling anxious for some incomprehensible reason. He looked back down the road, lit by the rising sun, and back at his feet before shaking his head as if to snap himself out of whatever bout of nervousness he’d found himself in.

He knocked solidly on the door’s dark wood panels and waited, furiously brainstorming a good joke to make when Will answered.

No noise came from the house for what seemed for a long while, and so Tom knocked again, with a little more force. After a few seconds, he heard a weak call from in the house that sounded like a “one moment”.

The door pulled back gently to reveal a heavy-lidded, slightly disheveled Will Schofield, obviously just woken up. Tom felt guilty for waking him but ever so grateful for the reminder of why his subconscious had nicknamed him “pretty guy”. 

Tom gave a light wave in greeting. “Morning, Schofield. I’m back for my umbrella.”

With his mussed hair and wrinkled sleep-clothes, Tom found the small laugh Will gave in response strikingly cute.

“Good morning. I’ll just clean myself up a bit and make some tea before we leave, if that’s alright. You want a cup?”

Tom nodded as he stepped inside, seating himself in front of the kitchen counter and watching Will as he rinsed two mugs and set the kettle on the stove.

“So, you’re going to tell me all there is to know about cherry orchards?” Will asked, throwing a smile back at Tom over his shoulder as he looked through his fridge.

“I think you’ll learn most from experience, but I’ll give you the basics,” Tom responded. Will pulled out some jam and set it next to a bagged loaf of bread out on the counter.

“Do you sell the products of the cherries you grow?”

“Yeah, during the summer, mainly.”

“Why the summer?”

“Growing seasons. Tart and sour cherries grow earlier, those’ll be the first ones you get to help us harvest. Sweet cherries grow later. Most cherry products are made with those.”

Will continued to question Tom on cherries, letting him ramble on about different types, their unique characteristics, and which ones Tom liked best while they waited for the kettle to boil. After a bit, Tom came to the realization he’d been talking without interjections from Will for a while and thought about apologizing before he looked up. He was met with a sleepy, happy smile from Will that prompted a twinge of affection in Tom’s heart. The degree of comfort he felt around Will Schofield so soon after meeting him gave Tom a mild shock- and a sense of dread he shoved to the back of his mind. 

_I’m not going to fall in love with him. I barely know him, and besides, I know better than to torture myself like that._

The kettle whistled and Will turned away from him to pour their tea and, after pointing out the location of milk (“I’m sorry, but I haven’t the chance to buy sugar yet,”), he left the room to change.

Tom stirred his tea and looked out the window above the kitchen sink, watching the sunrise’s colors fade.

***

“So I can choose between canning and picking?” Will asked after Tom gave his brief explanation of the work done at the orchard once they’d arrived.

“Not exactly. My brother’s hired you as a picker.”

“Alright, then,” Will replied, unbothered. Tom liked that he wasn’t intimidated by outdoor work.

“Grab a pair of gloves.”

They drove out past rows of flowering sweet cherry trees towards the far end of the orchard, where a couple of other trucks sat parked and their operators filled baskets with tart cherries in the distance.

“You remember the storm that came through a while ago?” Tom asked as they stepped out of the truck, motioning for Will to grab some baskets from its bed.

“Mm.” Will hummed in confirmation.

“That kind of rain’s bad news for cherries. Causes ‘em to split. We went through and harvested most of what was ripe before the weather hit, but there are always stragglers.”

Will connected the dots and approached the nearest tree, combing through its leaves.

“Found one,” Will called back to Tom, who stood a few meters away, leaning on the truck’s side and watching Will’s efforts. He held up an adequate sized, unsplit cherry for Tom to see.

“The keyword there is _one_ ,” Tom called back before walking over to the tree. “You’re gonna have an easy first day. I’m putting you on clean-up duty, essentially, so don’t worry about filling a lot of the baskets. There likely won’t be more than one or two filled by the end of the day.”

“And how about you?”

Tom smiled. “It’s my day off, but I’m going to spend it hanging around and mentoring when needed.”

“You do this for all your employees, then?”

“No.” Tom left it at that, despite the obvious curiosity in Will’s expression, by walking back to the truck and pulling out a small transistor radio and a book before climbing in the truck bed, getting comfy, and tuning in to what Will recognized as a baroque arrangement.

By the end of the afternoon, Tom had lost count of the number of times they made eye contact looking over through the trees.

***

“Saw you out in the trees with Schofield today,” Joseph said amicably, drying the rinsed dishes Tom handed him.

“I quite like him.”

“You like anyone that tolerates your storytelling.”

“I mean it, he’s a good worker,” Tom laughed in reply. “Didn’t mind me fetching him early. Nicer than any Londoner I’ve met.”

“Yeah, he seems like a good chap. How about you show him ‘round the area this weekend? Take him by some trails, shortcuts, natural spots, the like?”

The thought made Tom’s stomach flip in what he tried to think of as mere platonic anticipation.

“Sounds alright with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell by my writing style I consume more films than books haha
> 
> Also, sorry it took me a week to write 1k words.  
> I blame school- on the bright(ish) side now, I'm out of classes due to the coronavirus pandemic


	3. Chapter 3

Will was good at his job, he thought. His second day was harder than the first, and Tom wasn’t around to keep him company, but Joe seemed to approve of his work.

He told Will as much as he prepared to head home that afternoon.

“You’re a quick learner,” he called out, leaning against the doorframe of the cherry-filled storage site.

Will dried his hands and smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“Tom approves of you, too.”

Will felt himself going on guard, reminded of past taunts and aggressions, but paused, letting the feeling pass. These were better people than most."You think so?"

"I know so. You two get along. I asked him to show you some spots ‘round the area, you know, places you should know about if you're to be staying here,” Joe said, stepping aside as Will passed through the doorway to look back at him. “This weekend sound alright?”

"I'd like that.”

Over the course of the week, Will’s anticipation steadily built, jolting him at random into full attention with the thought of Joe’s words ( _“Tom approves of you, too”_ ) and the occasional glance from Tom when he was around.

Tom didn’t hang with Will in the trees again after his first day, and the only words they exchanged afterwards were, to Will, almost unbearably casual. He had waved one morning, maybe a little too eager in his tiredness, and was met with a bright smile, yet still, he felt as if he was being avoided. He dismissed it with the reminder that he didn’t know Tom’s work schedule or even the nature of his job, but the nagging thought that he had somehow slipped up, given his attraction away, and effectively gutted a budding friendship stuck with him and piled onto his nervousness.

Friday proved to be the climax of his anxiety. He couldn’t help but wonder whether Tom not speaking to him about the supposed weekend plans meant he didn’t want to show Will around at all, or whether he would even show up.

Working helped him stress a little less, but he still hadn’t seen Tom by the end of the day.

He walked towards the orchard’s gravel lot, all but given up on communicating with Tom, until he heard the orchard house’s front door swing shut behind him and a familiar voice shout his name.

Tom ran over and, smiling, blocked Will’s hand from reaching the truck door’s handle despite there being no sign of Will reaching for it, making him laugh.

“Tad bit dramatic, no?”

“I’m only living up to my reputation,” Tom grinned. “Joe tell you the plans for tomorrow?”

“Sort of. You’re supposed to show me around the area, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, combing a hand through his grown out bangs. “How ‘bout I swing ‘round at 8, and I can show you a nice place to get breakfast in town before I drag you through these woods?”

Will grinned hard, both relieved and excited. “Absolutely.”

***

Tom hardly had to wait a second for Will to answer the door.

“Good morning,” Tom said brightly, taking in Will’s appearance. He looked a little too… formal. “We’re gonna be out in nature, mate. You sure dressing up’s a good decision?”

Will’s smile fell slightly as he looked down at his outfit. “Ah… I suppose you’re right. I’ll change,” he replied, his ears tinged red. “You want to come in?”

“Sure.” Tom said warmly, stepping into the cottage and watching Will disappear down the hall. It sent a bolt of adrenaline through his veins when he realized Will had dressed up for _him_ exclusively, as opposed to the day ahead.

After breakfast at a local cafe where Tom learned a couple things about his friend relating to how his profile looked in sunlight, and how he liked his coffee (lots of milk, a little sugar), Tom drove Will’s truck out onto a dirt road near the orchard. It led to a relatively underdeveloped lot with a few signs and corresponding trails branching off of it, where Tom parked and, grabbing his bag and getting out of the truck, stood and waited for Will to stand beside him.

“Right. This trail here,” Tom said, pointing to one, “is a good short hike. Beginners stuff. The middle one here goes on for a few miles, leads you through some hilly areas. The one we’re taking,” he said, starting towards the remaining trail, “goes to the quarries.”

“Quarries?” Will said curiously, following Tom’s lead.

“No worries, they’re all closed down now. Plenty of spots around them to sit and relax. We can eat lunch there, if you want,” Tom said with a shrug, patting his bag. “I brought some food for the both of us.”

“And what do you northerners eat for lunch?” Will joked.

The trip lasted a couple hours, with Will struggling only marginally to keep up, but Tom filled the time well by telling stories about past hikes with Joe and their brothers, or pointing out birds they saw and imitating their song, or berating Will with general questions about his life.

They were both laughing when the trees thinned out to reveal distant quarries further down the trail.

Finding a good area to eat lunch in the nearest quarry proved easy. It was shady, and just wide enough to fit the two of them and the woven picnic blanket Tom laid out their lunch on.

As they ate, Tom spiralled into another story about the quarry.

“This place was still active when I was younger, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Me and Joe used to sneak in sometimes and be nuisances,” he chuckled. “That stopped after one night, though.”

“Do tell.”

Will listened quietly, leaning against the rock incline behind them, to Tom’s recounting of his worst Halloween. 

“I broke my arm just over there,” he pointed across the quarry, closing his narrative.

Will shifted towards him. “How come you didn’t get caught?”

Tom winked. “Face paint. It got smeared when I fell, and my nose was bleeding, so I must’ve been a sight. Especially in the dark. I should’ve been caught, but the man that saw me ran off instead. I think he thought I was a ghost.”

Will let out a laugh and, grinning, turned to meet Tom’s eyes.

They shared a look for a long, silent moment before Tom broke eye contact, voice a little shorter on breath than before.

“Where were you before here?”

“University.” Will sighed.

“You graduated?”

Will laughed, “No. Got expelled. I don’t look like a senior, do I? I’m only twenty.”

“That’s rough,” Tom empathized, “I’ll be twenty next month. Never been to university though,” Tom paused for a moment before continuing, “How’d you get dropped, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Will took a breath. “I told my family it was because I let my studies slip.”

“And it wasn’t?”

“No. My studies were fine. We- I just did something I wasn’t supposed to.”

They were both quiet for a moment, looking out over the quarry. “I suppose we all make mistakes. I hope the path it led you down’s been good to you, though,” Tom said. “I, for one, am glad you’re around.”

“Yeah. I like it here a lot.” Will responded, voice soft.

Tom turned his head towards the hills further south, looking back at Will after a few minutes of silence. Will’s eyes lingered on Tom’s face until he caught his eye.

“Do I have something on my face?” Tom offered quietly.

Will smiled. “No, was just lost in thought.”

***

About three quarters into the walk back, a relatively tired Will failed to spot an exposed tree root at the expense of the skin on his knee.

“It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt much,” Will reassured as Tom hurriedly dug through his bag for a first aid kit.

“Found it!” Tom exclaimed, whipping out the kit. “Sit down, please.”

Tom didn’t think too hard about placing a hand on Will’s thigh to steady himself while he washed and treated his knee. He’d done the same for others many times, which was why when he lifted his head to a visibly flustered Will, it took Tom a moment to process why.

 _Ah, I hope he’s not embarrassed,_ Tom thought, giving a wink and a thumbs up when Will took Tom’s hand to stand up and finally met his eyes. 

Unfortunately, this seemed to fluster him even more.

 _Shit, I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I,_ Tom concluded, not realizing the other possibilities until later that day, after he’d bid Will farewell.

***

"It means something when someone gives you looks, right? I'm not delusional." Tom said quickly, voice tense, laying on the couch in Joe’s office.

"What, you meet a girl?" Joe replied non-committedly.

"Something like that."

"She's been making eyes at you?"

Tom waited before responding. "Something like that."

“Well, if someone stares when they don’t need to,” _Check,_ thought Tom, “and makes eye contact without conversation,” _Check,_ “that usually means something.”

 _This could be real,_ Tom thought, the realization hitting him hard. _Will may like men. Will may like me._

“Can I get her name?” Joe questioned, interrupting Tom’s thinking.

"I don't want to talk about it."

“Do I know her, at least?”

Tom gave him a disdainful look.

"Alright, alright, I'll leave it alone. You never talk to me about girls, is all. Was starting to think you'd never find one you liked," Joseph sighed, standing and clearing his throat. "I'm happy for you, little brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all this is a sixties AU, you sure bet Tom’s got wack ass bangs


	4. Chapter 4

Will sat at his kitchen counter and twirled his pencil in his hand.

He’d slept in and spent the rest of the daytime reading, doing minor accounting, and letting his mind wander to thoughts of Tom and when or if exactly he intended to stop by with some excess furniture he’d said “he’d drop off Sunday afternoon”. With the sun already on its way down, Will couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been forgotten about.

Once more, he was anxious.

Will couldn’t think of any reasonable, platonic explanation for the way his brain functioned when Tom was concerned. Will liked him, simple as that. He liked his stories, his voice, his laugh. His face, all pretty and expressive.

Pretending he didn’t have a crush wouldn’t do him any good.

Will sighed and dropped his head on the counter. The clock above the front door read 5:45, sooner into evening than afternoon. _I should probably start dinner_ , he thought, about to lift himself and drag his feet to the stove when the sound of a humming engine caught his ear, followed by its sudden cutoff and a quick knock at the front door.

“Thank fuck, finally,” he heard himself say as he opened the door to a shivering Tom. Tom laughed as Will’s brain caught up to his words and his calm expression faltered.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear, mate,” Tom replied as he stepped inside. His tone softened when Will shut the door and looked up. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Had some issues at the house.” Will nodded and took in Tom’s appearance.

“You look cold.” He said, voice quiet.

“Ah, yeah, it’s nippy out there. Looks like it might rain, too. Come on out with me now, we’ve a couple of armchairs to bring in before they get soaked.”

“Right,” Will said, jittery. The mere sight of Tom was enough to impair his executive function, it seemed.

 _God, I’m a mess,_ he thought, following Tom into the unusually chilly Spring evening.

After hauling in the chairs, two solid, maroon leather chairs with only a slight degree of wear around the seams, Tom sprawled out across the small sofa adjacent to them and let out a dramatic sigh. Will smiled over at him as he kneeled to start a fire in the cottage’s hearth.

“It’s been a long day, Will Schofield,” Tom yawned.

“Has it?” Will said, stoking the fire a bit before standing.

“Yeah,” Tom replied softly, watching Will move across the room and curl in one of the armchairs, matching Tom’s angle. Their eyes met from across the room, and neither spoke, letting the sound of the fire fill the room.

“You want to stay for dinner?” Will asked eventually.

The sound of sprinkling rain began to sound on the cottage’s roof. “Sure,” Tom answered gently, a small smile on his face.

Will smiled back and raised himself from the chair, eyes lingering on Tom’s.

Tom fell asleep to the sounds of Will cooking, the rumbles of distant thunder, and the rain slowly getting heavier outside.

And he woke up to the sound of soft music from a record player across the room, a blanket draped over him.

He looked down to find Will, reading on the ground in front of him with his back leaning against the couch.

Tom stretched out and yawned, causing Will to look back at him. “Morning.”

“What time’s it?” Tom’s sleepy brain slurred out as he moved to prop himself up on his side.

Will threw a quick look back at the clock. “Nine. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t wake you, you said you’d had a long day,” Will took off his reading glasses and got up, setting them on his counter. “I can heat up your dinner if you like.”

“Nah, it’s alright.”

They were both quiet as Will returned to his spot on the ground in front of the couch.

“It stopped raining,” Tom observed quietly. The air was filled with a sort of tension as they waited for one of them to speak.

Will leaned his head back, eyes closed, until it pressed against Tom’s chest.

Tom’s heart was racing, but he moved slowly, letting a hand card through Will’s hair. Will inhaled sharply when Tom’s hand trailed down the side of his face, letting his fingertips gently trace over the skin of his neck.

“Remember when I told you I was expelled?” Will said, voice hoarse. Tom hummed an affirmation. “It was because I loved a man.”

“Get up here,” Tom said softly in reply, sitting up to make room for Will.

They laid side by side along the length of the couch, legs slowly tangling. They pressed their foreheads together, both listening to the other’s shaky breathing and letting their arms encircle each other. When they finally kissed, Will’s hands flew up to hold Tom’s face, his thumbs rubbing small circles onto Tom's cheekbones.

“Stay the night,” Will whispered, opening his eyes to meet Tom’s own. “Stay.” 

Tom pressed a soft kiss to Will’s lips and smiled.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for supporting this fic, hope you enjoyed :-)


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